Somewhere #2

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Somewhere
(excerpt)

Chapter 8: Frank Kelly

Frank Kelly steps into his own room, a suite attached to his wife’s. The door between the two suites is closed. Frank takes a wallet out of one of his pockets and puts it on bedside table. Then he takes out a gun that he is carrying and places it in the dresser drawer by his bed. Taking off his jacket he throws it across the bed and rubs his back. He grimaces then bends over and picks up the phone.
Frank Kelly: “I need a massage… Because my back is killing me. Do I really have to go into details… Don’t worry about that. I’ll pay extra… Look, I’m tired of fighting everyone here. Tell her to get off her ass and get up here… What kind of place are you running?”
Helen Paolo, the hotel masseuse, puts down the phone and looks across the bar at George.
Helen: “They want me upstairs.”
George: “No more ponies.”
Helen: “Don’t worry about it.”
George: “I worry.”

Helen: “Put twenty down. Put it one my tab.”

George: “You’re not good at this.”

Helen laughs: “You are so serious. I can feel my luck changing.”